


Coming Out of My Cage, Doing Just Fine

by Redrikki



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Cages, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 19:31:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7653883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrikki/pseuds/Redrikki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the way back from Kadavo, it finally hits her. In this war, she’d been outmatched, outmaneuvered, and outgunned, but she’d never felt powerless. Not like she did in that cage on Zygerria.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Out of My Cage, Doing Just Fine

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [hurt-comfort bingo round 7](http://hc-bingo.livejournal.com) challenge 'cages.'

_Ahsoka sat in the cage suspended out over the city and was calm. She breathed in (two…three…four) and out (two…three…four) calmly, like a proper Jedi should. She was unconcerned about the way the cage swung in the wind or the creatures circling above, waiting for her to die. Ahsoka was calm._

_There were footsteps on the parapet above her. Her breathing sped up. She could feel the guard’s lust through the Force like oil clinging to her skin. Stay calm. She was panting now. Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm._

_“You’re mine, little skag,” he snarled. Then he activated her collar and Ahsoka—_

—woke up screaming.

“Ahsoka? Ahsoka!” 

She struck out against the hand on her shoulder even as she the recognized the voice. Ahsoka skittered back into the far corner of her bunk and buried her face in her hands. She couldn't believe she’d just struck her master. The one being in all the galaxy who would never hurt her, and she just punched him in the face over a stupid nightmare.

He was still there waiting at the edge of her bunk when she lowered her hands, watching her with concern. “You were screaming. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka scooted forward so she looked a little less like a frightened youngling. “Just a bad dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Ahsoka started to shake her head no, then reconsidered. She needed to release her feelings into the Force, but she had to understand and process them to do it. As much as she didn’t want to, talking might actually help. She gave him a quick nod, and made some room so he could sit next to her.

“It wasn’t so bad, really,” she said after a moment’s consideration. Anakin shot her an incredulous look, but, all things considered, it hadn’t been the worst thing that had happened to her. Her head had ached from the sun and dehydration, and the shock collar wasn’t exactly a picnic, but she’d been hurt worse before. It was’t, she realized, the physical discomfort which bothered her. “I just felt so…” She waved a hand in the air as she searched for the word.

“Helpless,” he offered quietly. “You felt helpless.”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka breathed. That was it exactly. In this war, she’d been outmatched, outmaneuvered, and outgunned, but she’d never felt powerless. She’d always had her lightsaber, the Force, and her master with her, but in that cage Ahsoka had just been a scared, unarmed girl waiting for that sleemo to come along and hurt her. 

Anakin reached out, slowly, giving her more than enough time to pull away if she needed to, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I am so sorry, Snips. I never wanted you to have to feel that way. I should have come sooner.” His armed tightened uncomfortably as his lip curled into a snarl. “I never should have let them touch you.”

Ahsoka shrugged her way out from under his arm. “I wouldn’t have said no to an early rescue. Guess you were too busy making goo-goo eyes at the queen,” she teased. She gave him a playful nudge with her elbow, but he flinched like she’d whipped him in the face.

She pulled back to study him. Coming off of Kadavo, Rex and Obi-Wan had looked haggard, battered, exhausted, but somehow Anakin looked worse. How was that possible? It wasn’t like he’d been toiling in the pit of despair or suspended in a cage with a sadistic tormentor. He hadn’t even had a collar. Ahsoka had seen the way the queen looked at him. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him, she’d wanted to…she’d wanted… Ahsoka’s stomach flipped and for a second she thought she might be sick.

“Master, I—”

“—Anakin,” he snapped. “Call me Anakin,” he said, quieter this time. “I don’t want to hear that word, at least for a little while.”

“Me neither,” she lied with weak chuckle. Ahsoka reached out, slowly, giving him more than enough time to pull away if he needed to, and hooked her arm around his waist. “But we’re free now,” she reminded him.

“Yeah,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her snug against his chest. “We’re free,” he murmured. “It’s alright now. We’re free. We’re free.”

Ahsoka wondered for a moment just who he was trying to reassure. Then she closed her eyes and let herself be comforted.

**Author's Note:**

> Anakin woke up in the queen's _bed_. Just try to tell me there wasn't even just the implied threat of sexual coercion in that.
> 
> Title from "Mr. Brightside" by The Killers.


End file.
